Tokio blues

Not for me.

This simple phrase holds a world of meaning. It can signify a personal preference, a boundary, or a sense of detachment.

Perhaps it's about a particular activity that doesn't interest us, a style that doesn't suit our taste, or a situation that we choose to avoid.

When we say "not for me," we are asserting our individuality and making a statement about what we value and what we don't.

It's important to respect our own feelings and choices, even if they don't align with those of others.

Saying "not for me" can also be a way to protect ourselves from things that might cause stress, discomfort, or unhappiness.

It allows us to focus on the things that truly matter to us and pursue the paths that bring us joy and fulfillment.

So, the next time you find yourself thinking "not for me," don't be afraid to say it out loud and embrace your own unique perspective.

So. Damn. Good.

Toru Watanabe is constantly reminded of the love and pain of his youth whenever he hears Beatles' songs like 'Hey Jude' and 'Norwegian Wood'. This immediately casts the reader back to Toru's late teenage and early 20s in the late '60s and early '70s, centered around Tokyo. The premise of an older person recalling their youth might seem simple, but not with Murakami! Oh no. It's so much more than that.

Murakami surprised many by writing a 'normal' novel instead of his typical magical realist works. He even admits to being'shocked' and 'dismayed' when this book catapulted him from a niche cult writer to a world-famous celebrity author. But the beauty of this amazing piece lies in the fact that it's anything but normal. The characters are innovative, formidable, and even brain-hurting (yes, really!). From the almost callous ultra-realist Nagasawa to the highly strung but practical Midori, who marches to the beat of her own drum.

As always, his writing is pitch perfect. The dialogue and some of the exchanges in this book are truly outstanding. It's not just a normal novel. It's a five-star read - 11 out of 12, to be exact.

My 2008 one-sentence review said it all: 'An understated masterpiece by Murakami'.

Women's History Month has come to an end, and it seems only appropriate to set feminism aside for a moment and pick up a long-awaited book.

\n  \n    “Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Only assholes do that.”\n  \n

"Norwegian Wood" is a coming-of-age novel that follows Toru Watanabe as he reflects on his college years in the late 1960s and early 1970s. He experiences love and heartbreak with various women and struggles to come to terms with the suicide of his best friend from a few years prior. The novel delves into themes of grief, coping, and love.

Because Murakami's main genre is magical realism, his dreamlike tone permeates the narrative. His writing is ethereal and almost fantastical. The way he describes feelings related to mental health, depression, and grief is one of the most beautifully written portrayals I have ever read. This is perhaps why I loved the book so much, despite its various flaws.

The prose is both melancholy and beautiful. It has a muted quality, yet it is incredibly vivid. I was transported into a time and world I have never known. I felt what the characters were feeling and breathed the air they were breathing. So many lines and passages deeply resonated with me, and it was an almost cathartic experience.

However, I believe it is important to critique and engage in literary discourse about aspects that may fall short, even in books that I enjoy. In this case, it is the portrayal of women.

It is impossible to read a Murakami novel without being shocked and almost disgusted by the regressive and objectifying nature of his female characters. In typical Murakami fashion, the women are overly sexualized without any real purpose. They are manic pixie dream girls, seemingly designed to fulfill the male gaze. I sometimes find it amusing how much men assume women are preoccupied with their bodies. I could look at a picture of my own breasts and not even recognize them.

All in all, Murakami has once again created a beautiful novel that explores profound and important themes, while unfortunately mishandling the portrayal of women. Strangely enough, I'm okay with that.

Although some things didn't convince me 100%, Norwegian Wood is such an intimate, melancholy, and desolate novel that it's impossible to remain indifferent during the reading.

The central theme is the processing of grief and the depression it generates, so it's not a particularly light novel. However, precisely because of this, I think it will be able to move something inside you.

It's really recommended! This novel takes the reader on an emotional journey, exploring the complex emotions and inner turmoil of the characters. The writing style is beautiful and evocative, painting a vivid picture of the setting and the characters' experiences. Despite its heavy subject matter, Norwegian Wood manages to find moments of hope and beauty, making it a truly unforgettable read.

Questa è una recensione negativa. Se ami visceralmente questo libro, al punto di non poter accettare che qualcuno lo critichi o metta in luce le problematiche al suo interno, sei invitato a passare oltre. Subissarmi di commenti o messaggi privati in cui mi aggredisci, mi insulti, o cerchi di convincermi che non sono autorizzata a parlare male del tuo libro preferito non servirà a farmi cambiare idea e avrà come unico risultato quello di farti bloccare.

C’era davvero bisogno di fare questa premessa? Fidatevi che sì.

Ti starai forse chiedendo, lettore, per quale motivo abbia scelto di aprire la mia recensione con una citazione di questo tipo. Il primo è che la suddetta frase rappresenta perfettamente la cifra stilistica dell’opera da cui è tratta. Il secondo è che, non potendo rimuovere questo libro dalla mia memoria, trovo giusto infliggere almeno una parte della mia sofferenza sui malcapitati che leggeranno queste righe.

Ma andiamo con ordine.

Il primo e principale problema in cui mi sono imbattuta leggendo "Norwegian Wood" è quello del genere. Nonostante venga normalmente presentato come un'opera di narrativa letteraria, infatti, questo romanzo mi ha subito colpito per la sua somiglianza con i classici del romance.

Per chi non fosse pratico del settore: l’editoria italiana e quella internazionale classificano come romance quei libri incentrati su una storia d’amore tra due o più persone e culminanti in un lieto fine per la coppia principale.

Non solo "NW" soddisfa entrambi questi requisiti, ma contiene anche molti clichè (o, se preferite, espedienti narrativi) comunemente impiegati nella letteratura rosa.

Il protagonista è il classico ragazzo qualunque dalla personalità abbastanza neutra, costruito per far sì che la maggior parte dei lettori possa immedesimarsi in lui.

Nonostante non possieda particolari qualità, il suddetto protagonista funge inesplicabilmente da calamita per il genere femminile. Le donne gli si gettano addosso con straordinaria frequenza.

Gli altri personaggi maschili o muoiono, o sono dipinti come degli stronzi senza cuore che maltrattano le donne.

I personaggi femminili, e in particolare i due principali interessi amorosi, esistono solo in funzione del protagonista. Naoko e Midori sono figure macchiettistiche, costruite a partire da una fantasia romantica/erotica.

Voglio comunque mettere in chiaro una cosa: le caratteristiche sopra elencate, pur potendo risultare fastidiose, non costituiscono di per sé un difetto insormontabile. Non c’è nulla di male a scrivere una storia incentrata su una fantasia romantica.

Ma questo non spiega come mai un’opera simile venga trattata come un “romanzo di formazione” e non come una storia d’amore. L’unica giustificazione che riesco a darmi è legata all’identità dell’autore.

Rimane il fatto che, da qualunque prospettiva lo guardi, per me questo libro non ha funzionato. Non ha funzionato come romanzo letterario perché è troppo stereotipato, irrealistico e pieno di clichè. E non ha funzionato come romance perché il suo target non sono io e la mia idea di romanticismo è lontanissima da quella di Murakami.

A tal proposito, preferisco sorvolare sulla caratterizzazione di Reiko e sui toni usati dall'autore per descrivere una scena di sesso tra un'adulta e la sua allieva tredicenne.

Se volete leggere una storia di formazione che affronti in modo realistico il tema dei disturbi mentali, sia ambientata in Giappone e includa un buon numero di scene di sesso, vi consiglio piuttosto "La Mia Prima Volta" di Kabi Nagata.

A sad but beautiful story about love and memories that stay with you, even when things change or people leave.

This is truly one of the best love stories I have ever had the pleasure of reading. It has touched my heart in ways I never thought possible.

This happens to be my first encounter with a Murakami book. Norwegian Wood was recommended by Linus Cheung (張永霖) on RTHK radio in Hong Kong.

To make a long story short, my Hong Kong uncle introduced me to listening to his radio program (張永霖的世界). It was through this program that I first heard about this amazing book.

I promptly bought the book online and it was delivered by courier service to my town. The anticipation of receiving it was almost as exciting as reading it.

I am truly grateful that I was so lucky to have listened to that radio program. It has opened up a whole new world of literature for me.

I am in complete admiration of this author. He is a wonderful writer, capable of creating vivid characters and complex storylines that draw you in and keep you hooked until the very end.

I have no doubt that I will continue to read Murakami books. His writing style is unique and captivating, and I can't wait to see what other masterpieces he has in store for us. Year 2013.

Sadness is truly an extremely complex emotion. It has the strange ability to dissolve the boundaries of the reality that surrounds you and completely immerse you in an alternate world.

In this world, only you and that feeling exist in perfect harmony, and nothing else matters. You can luxuriate in the richness of its beauty and be amazed by the tranquility it offers.

Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood evokes precisely such similar emotions in the reader.

There are some books that you read and they leave you with stories - bitter, exciting, adrenaline-driven, romantic, depressing, or grisly. And then there are books that leave you with feelings.

Norwegian Wood most definitely belongs to the second category.

In my opinion, it is infinitely easier to deconstruct a story in a review than the feeling it leaves you with. But here is an attempt anyway.

This is a beautifully crafted, somber yet incredibly sensual tale of unfulfilled love where the central characters are, in essence, broken individuals.

In a very indolent manner, the book begins with our narrator Toru Watanabe, catching the strains of an orchestral version of The Beatles' 'Norwegian Wood' on a flight to Hamburg and starting to reminisce about a certain girl named Naoko from his youth in Tokyo.

From here on, the story is told as a flashback, as a sliver of memory that the 37-year-old Toru has carefully preserved or perhaps is struggling not to forget.

The story mainly revolves around the trials and tribulations of the three key characters - Toru, Naoko, and Midori.

Toru, a reserved young college student, is shown to be somewhat anti-social, not easily opening up to others as others do to him. There is a sense of profound sadness within him, hidden skillfully beneath a veneer of indifference, probably resulting from the loss of his childhood friend Kizuki, who committed suicide at 17.

Naoko, Kizuki's first and only girlfriend, is a beautiful and emotionally fragile being who has been unable to come to terms with the tragedy of Kizuki's untimely death.

Still in mourning and bound by a mutual feeling of isolation, Toru and Naoko forge an unnatural connection when they cross paths again years later in Tokyo.

Toru falls in love immediately, and she also feels something like love for him, but unfortunately, it is not enough to heal them both.

Soon, the emotionally unstable Naoko retreats to a sanatorium in mountainous Kyoto while Toru tries to continue his life as an unremarkable university student, seeking comfort in sleeping with random women.

In Naoko's continued absence, he befriends the bright, sassy, sexually liberated Midori Kobayashi, who has also had her share of tragedies but still manages to be optimistic.

His unlikely friendship with Midori helps to dispel some of the darkness in Toru's life, but he is still unable to get Naoko out of his mind and keeps writing her letters regardless of whether she replies or not.

The rest of the book details Toru's dilemma as he is torn between these two women, never quite sure whether to shun his troubled past and embrace reality as it comes or keep waiting for Naoko to fully recover from her festering psychological wounds.

Written in a lucid language, the book is full of metaphors usually represented by the description of natural scenery.

Murakami's obsession with western classics and music is reflected in the countless references to Beatles numbers like "Yesterday", "Michelle", "Something", Bach, Mozart, Scarlatti, and literary works of Joseph Conrad, Fitzgerald, Thomas Mann, Karl Marx, and so on.

The brief overview of the plot does not do justice to the story in any way. For a book like Norwegian Wood cannot be summarized.

It is about human relationships that cannot be named or clearly defined. It is about the ghastly specter of death and the way the people who are no longer with us sometimes leave us in a permanent state of damage.

It is about friendship, love, and sexuality. And most importantly, it is about sadness. In its cruelest yet most beautiful form.

The inherent dreariness of the book gets to you at some point or another, but Murakami's compelling story-telling ways ensure that you keep reading until the very end.

This book was truly disgusting.

Toru, the main character, is极其平庸.

All the women in it are horrible and one-dimensional; they seem to exist merely to fulfill Toru's sexual desires and fantasies.

He actually has sex with three-fourths of the significant female characters, and he's allegedly "so good at sex" that two of them swear they'll never have sex again.

I can't stress enough how misogynistic this is.

Why were there so many dry, uncomfortable, and unromantic sex scenes?

And why was there that one involving a 13-year-old? It was so gross and unnecessary (even if its actual occurrence is ambiguous).

Murakami is much better when he engages in magical realism, where the grotesque sex can fit into the overall aesthetic.

Instead, this was just creepy and anti-women.

Definitely a big NOPE for me!!

Mediocre "nice guys" need to stop thinking that all women exist to provide sexual favors.